Her name is Arlene Washington, but in our car, she is known as Wavy Lady.

"Some people think I'm crazy,'' she said as she prepared for her afternoon shift as a crossing guard on Chicopee's busy Grattan Street.

"I say, why can't you wish somebody a nice day?''

Twice a day, Wavy Lady takes her spot in the city's Aldenville section. She is passed by dozens of cars each hour, hundreds each week, thousands over the course of a school year.

She waves enthusiastically to every single one. The arm never seems to get tired. Neither does the spirit.

That's not all.

She bends down to look into the passing vehicles as she calls out her wishes for a nice day.

Rain or shine, Wavy Lady never seems to have a bad day or even a bad moment. In a society where most human interaction now requires passwords, and where people cross the street just to avoid eye contact, such behavior is often considered odd and even daffy.

Delightfully, she does not care. Wavy Lady's dedication to brightening the day of strangers, even for a moment, is ... well, unwavering.

"When I first starting doing this job a couple of years ago, I would see crossing guards with all those stone faces,'' Wavy Lady said.

Haven't we all?

Anyone who does this task has a sense of community service and a good heart.

It is an essential job, but one that is largely thankless and does not pay much. Proficiency is measured not by the level of excitement, but by its absence.

Frankly, it can be brutally dull. Washington decided a little humanity and good cheer still wouldn't hurt.

One convert is her partner on the beat. Jackie McCollaum works the other side of Grattan Street, and after a slow start, she's waving, too.

Call her Wavy Lady II. This is her first year on the corner.

"I'm just a beginner, learning from her. She says to wave while you work, and the day will go by faster,'' McCollaum said.

"It's especially nice in the morning. It's bad enough for all those people in the cars - they have to go to work, so you might as well be nice to them.''.

Washington is a retired senior citizen, a Chicopee resident who once worked with special needs children in Longmeadow. Having no children of her own, she decided to adopt Grattan Street.

She says she never wakes up in the morning and finds herself in no mood to be nice.

"But, I do have a temper,'' she says unconvincingly.

She resists the temptation to dump her problems on others. But these women have problems, as we all do.

"My hip is killing me,'' says Wavy Lady as she struggles to get out of the car.

Last April, Washington was hit by a car. She was out of action for the rest of the school year, but missed her job and was thrilled to be back at her post in September.

The accident's lingering effect restricts her movement. McCollaum handles much of the physical work of actually crossing the street.

After 37 years as a housekeeper, McCollaum was laid off. That is why she became a crossing guard.

These women have reason to be grouchy, yet every morning and every afternoon, the lady with the aching hip and the lady who got pink-slipped show up and wave to the traffic.

Not everybody waves back.

"Some people roll their eyes. I had someone give me the finger,'' Wavy Lady said.

"I just walked up and said, you don't have to wave back if you don't want, but that wasn't necessary.''

But there is a happy ending to this story. In a world of people too busy or too hurried to smile and wave, the simple process of being friendly is winning the day in Aldenville.

"The bus drivers started waving back,'' said Wavy Lady.

Gradually, more converts followed until now, a growing legion of motorists and passengers are returning the warm greetings from people they do not know and will probably never meet.

For two five-second intervals each day, a quick hello from the crossing guards has become part of their lives. If that's crazy, where can we enlist some more of this lunacy?

"I have a father and son who come by every day with a bullhorn, wishing me a nice day,'' Washington said.

On an ordinary Thursday afternoon in Chicopee, Wavy Ladies I and II genuinely appreciate that someone who happens to work in the news media has stopped to tell them they add a brief, unscripted pleasant moment to his day each morning, and again each afternoon.

"Is this story going to be in the Transcript?'' McCollaum asks.

The reporter can't help but smile. He realizes this smiling thing is an infectious habit, and difficult to break when shared among neighbors who understand that a sense of community begins with the smallest things.

"I know there are people who think there's got to be something wrong with that person, waving at everyone going by,'' Washington said.

"But I just keep telling everyone to have a great day. I don't see any reason why a person can't be nice.''